


Standing The Heat

by veronamay



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-01
Updated: 2006-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 13:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veronamay/pseuds/veronamay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He notices when Max disappears for a couple of days and comes back looking hollow-eyed and haunted, of course he does, but he never figured it'd happen to <i>him</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standing The Heat

**Author's Note:**

> ~~Eons~~ A few weeks ago, I teased [](http://quiet000001.livejournal.com/profile)[**quiet000001**](http://quiet000001.livejournal.com/) with the idea of Alec-in-heat. I don't remember if I actually promised her fic, but I thought I should write some just in case. Currently unbeta'd.

Alec likes being in control. He was designed to be; it's a built-in imperative. Whatever the situation, he'll do anything to make sure he's never at a disadvantage, never at anyone's mercy. It's bred into him to be dominant, confident, sure of his superiority.

That all changes the morning he wakes up before it's even light outside, and he's burning up, itchy, _aching_. He's never felt it before, but he knows what it is.

There's this feline DNA thing that gets Max all hot and bothered a couple of times a year. For about three days, she goes from being Do-Gooder Max to this insanely hot chick who just wants to get laid as often and as loudly as she can. It drives Logan nuts when it happens, but he grits his teeth and doesn't say anything because it's not like Max can _help_ it. In his better moments, Alec actually kind of feels sorry for the guy, because Max in heat is _scorching_.

He recognises the signs from watching her. He knows there's nothing there for him and that's okay, but he had a while to think about it, and by now it's second nature to take note, a half-assed 'got your back' kind of thing. He notices when Max disappears for a couple of days and comes back looking hollow-eyed and haunted, of course he does, but he never figured it'd happen to _him_.

Alec's pretty sure whoever mixed his cocktail together got their test tubes confused. Male cats don't go into heat. They respond to females in heat, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, and then it's back to the daily grind, which is a pretty sweet deal, except that's not what's happening to him. Alec has to wonder if the medtechs at Manticore knew that, if this is another of their experiments, or if they just didn't care. Either way, it doesn't matter. There must've been something in the daily pill regimen he used to take that kept it under control. It'd be inconvenient to have one of your genetically engineered killing machines go all yowly at the wrong moment, he figures – unless it served the mission.

It doesn't matter in the end. What does matter is that Alec clearly got a dose of Ms Puss In Boots, because right now he's sweating and throwing a boner at anything in pants. He is so very, very fucked. Or he will be before this is over. He'll ignore it for as long as he can, but he already knows how it's going to end, and man, that pisses him _off_.

It's the lack of control more than anything. The idea of sex with a guy is a minor consideration; actually, he thinks it'd be kind of hot, and maybe Manticore had a hand in that too but he doesn't let it bother him. You never know what you're gonna need to do on a deep-cover op, and he'd rather not have the hang-up anyway. No, he's not worried about the guy thing. He's worried about the fact that he's completely vulnerable when he's like this, and he gets the feeling that when he's desperate enough he might just do _anything_ to ease the ache, and that ... that's not a comfortable thought.

He's got a plan, to contain as much of the impulse as possible. His strategy involves calling in sick from work, cruising bars after sundown until he sees someone he likes, someone he can handle, then finding a room and fucking until this fever's out of his system. It's a simple plan, but it's not rocket science he's doing here.

He really wants to be drunk through the whole thing, but alcohol is not a good idea. He gets the feeling that if he were to loosen the reins even a little bit his hormones would have him draped over a pool table, legs in the air, taking all comers. Literally. So, no. He's strictly sober tonight. He can get drunk after it's over, try to erase the memories then. It won't be as good as a post-op memory dump, but it'll have to do.

When night falls on the second day and he's so twitchy he can't stand still, Alec heads into the dark areas of the city, away from Crash and his other usual haunts. The red-light district moved after the Pulse hit, but it's still pretty easy to find, down near South Market. He's at home in the dark, able to see and hear perfectly well, and his sense of smell is completely jacked up out of all proportion. He figures he can pretty much smell his way to some faceless, preferably hot, but not whacked-out guy on pheromones alone, which should make the job easier. He's in the grip of a sex-crazed feverlust, sure, but he's still got _standards_.

He trails down a side alley toward a half-lit neon sign, smelling the beer on tap from a block away. He's just about to slide through the door when he catches a hint of something ... something _incredible_ , some delicious scent that hovers in the air and teases him, and Alec knows that his simple, foolproof plan has just been shot to hell. Whoever the guy is, whatever he looks like – that scent is _it_. He can't settle for anything else.

He takes a look around, cocking his head to catch the faint sounds of scuffling in the dim space behind the bar. It's too small to be a real back lane, more like a by-way for dumping trash, but it's big enough for a couple of guys to hold a low-voiced conversation. Alec goes to the corner of the wall and drops to his knees, edging out around the corner to get a clear view of what's going on back there.

That scent hits him again, stronger this time, undiluted by distance, at the same time Alec lays eyes on the guy making it. And all he can think as he stares is, _Oh, fuck me._

He's not sure if that's a curse or a plea. Because he's looking at this guy, and he's already hard as a railroad spike and the guy ... the guy is Logan.

* * *

  


Alec stands up and melts into the shadows, moving noiselessly toward Logan and the contact or snitch or whoever it is he's chatting to so earnestly. The other guy is barely a blip on Alec's radar; he's no threat, and definitely no temptation, being short and bald and built like a reed pipe. He's got 'Eyes Only informant' written all over him, which just figures. What else would Logan be doing in the middle of the porn district at eleven p.m.?

This is a bad idea. Alec forms that thought clearly, in complete words and a nice, grammatically correct sentence, and then he repeats it in five different languages. None of it stops him from gliding over to Logan as the informant slips through the bar's back door, coming up on his right side and getting a deep breath full of that smell that's got his mouth watering and his ass clenching in a really disturbing way. It doesn't stop him from getting right into Logan's personal space and slamming him against the wall of the bar, an arm across Logan's throat so he can't escape, plastering himself to Logan's chest.

"What the—" Logan peers at his face in the dark. "Alec? What are you doing here? Let go of me."

Alec licks his lips and puts his face in Logan's throat. He's already lightheaded just from this, his pulse points thrumming, his limbs heavy and liquid. He wants to sink into Logan's body and pull it around him, fill himself up with it, get drunk on the smell and the taste and the feel of this guy. Max's guy. He knows it's wrong, and he knows he's going to feel like crap about this later, but he honestly can't help himself.

"Alec?"

Logan sounds uncertain, his body not quite tensed. Alec knows if he gives Logan a chance to think this is all going to be over before it starts, and he really doesn't think he can stand that. Not now that he's this close.

"I need help," he whispers in Logan's ear. "Logan. I need. I ..."

"Hey." Logan pushes him back, all concern, eyes worried behind his glasses. "What's the matter? Is everything all right? Is Max—"

"It's not Max, Max is fine," Alec cuts in, straining against Logan's hands, rubbing himself against him, needing the contact. "Forget about Max for five minutes. _I_ need, Logan, I don't even ... it's ... oh, _God_ ," and he can sense it the moment Logan understands, the exact second he catches on.

"Wait – Alec, wait a second," and Logan has no clue how funny that is, because Alec _has_ waited, Alec's been feeling like this for ( _months_ ) two days now and it _hurts_. He ignores Logan's voice, focusing instead on what his body is saying. Logan's body is heating up, those amazing pheromones almost dripping in the air, and Alec gets the feeling it's been a long time since Logan saw any action. He hasn't really asked the question, but he already knows the answer. Logan's in love with Max, for sure, but he's not going to say no.

" _Wait_ , Alec," Logan says again, his hands spreading over Alec's chest, burning into him. "Is this ... are you drunk or something, or ..."

"In heat, Logan." Alec bites off the words precisely, letting them fall directly in front Logan's mouth so there's no mistake. "I am stone cold sober, and I can guess everything you're thinking, but I can't stop this and I'm going to go insane if you don't fuck me _right fucking now_."

He can feel Logan trembling against him, body and mind pulling him in opposite directions. He's not too proud to use what he's got, making himself pliant and supple in Logan's hold, promising ... Christ, anything. Everything. He's just got to _do_ something, and soon, before he burns to a cinder.

The moment Logan makes a decision, he knows. Logan's hands flex on his chest, feeling instead of pushing away, and the sigh that falls across his face is surrender.

"Come on," Logan says softly, and his hand slides down. Alec grips it like a lifeline, hating himself somewhere deep inside, and follows.

* * *

  


The motel is better than Alec expects, cheap but clean. Logan gives a false name and pays in cash. Alec manages to control himself at the front desk, but as soon as they're on the stairwell out of public view he's winding himself around Logan's body from behind, pressing as much of himself as he can to broad shoulders and lean muscle. Logan doesn't say anything, doesn't push him away, only shifts Alec's arms around his waist to a more comfortable position. Alec buries his face between Logan's shoulder blades and lets himself be half-dragged up to the second floor.

Logan's careful with him once they get inside the room, his touch gentle and obviously meant to soothe as he twists around in Alec's hold. Alec appreciates the thought, but he's too far gone for that. He's burning up, pressing in, sliding his hands up Logan's chest to push off coat and shirt and then back down to get under the long-sleeved t-shirt he's wearing underneath. Logan's slow to respond, but then his hands come up to grip Alec's on his stomach, holding him still.

"Alec," he says, "you don't have to do this. I can help you wait it out."

Alec doesn't want to hear it. He's half-crazed, Logan's warmth seeping into his bones, fuelling him more than air. When Logan steps away, still holding him back, he tries to follow, his whole body leaning toward his new magnetic north. He traps in his throat the mewling sounds he wants to make, because he's got something to do here. He has a new need, one born of the look in Logan's eyes back in that alley, a need that demands he make Logan come to _him_. Alec's here, he's shockingly willing, and he knows he's almost impossible to resist.

"Logan."

He waits for Logan to meet his gaze. Underneath the raging haze of desire, his mind is perfectly, achingly clear.

"I don't want to wait it out. I don't want to waste this. What I want is for you to fuck me. Are we clear?"

Logan's hands clench over his. For an unbearable, gutwrenching moment, Alec can't read anything in his face.

"We're clear."

Logan yanks him back in, arms circling him like a steel trap, and Alec _melts_ against him, and he tries to turn his head away, hoping to spare something from this, but Logan isn't having it. Logan palms his jaw and kisses him, wet and deep, and the whimper Alec's been swallowing for the past half-hour escapes him. He forces himself to pull back, panting.

"What? What is it?" Logan sounds frantic, his hands holding Alec tighter. "I swear, Alec, if this is a joke—"

"No joke," Alec grates out. "It's not. Just – I wanted to save something. Something for her. For ... someday, when you two ..."

Logan rests his forehead against Alec's. His hands are moving over Alec's back, long sweeping moves up and down, over his leather jacket and then under, under his sweater and shirt, unabashedly caressing. He sounds almost angry when he speaks again.

"Don't do that, Alec. Don't. This isn't about her. It's not," he repeats, when Alec looks up to meet his gaze, deadly serious. "This is you, and me, and that's all."

"And Manticore," Alec whispers.

" _Fuck_ Manticore," Logan whispers back, and kisses him again.

Alec lets go then. He's been wound so tight, drowning in want for so long he's forgotten how to breathe. He falls against Logan, opening up, offering everything, and Logan takes it. He strips Alec in what seems like only a second, his hands inciting heat and sweat everywhere he touches, his head dipping down to kiss and bite, returning again and again to Alec's mouth for drugging kisses that weaken his knees. Logan catches him when he stumbles, moving them over to the bed, and follows Alec down.

"God, Logan, _hurry_." Alec sinks into the mattress and pulls Logan close, spreading his legs to cradle slim hips and arching up into Logan's warmth. Logan presses into him, restraining, and Alec needs to feel _skin_. He grabs a fistful of cotton at Logan's back and pulls, dragging the t-shirt up, forcing Logan to stop kissing him long enough to shrug out of it. Alec dives for Logan's belt buckle, his fingers nimble even if the rest of him is on fire, and moments later Logan is kicking off his jeans and shoes. Then it's all skin, everywhere, and warmth and strength holding him down and Alec's pretty sure he's never been this hard before in his entire _life_. He's also pretty sure he's going to stroke out soon, and his vision is already going white at the edges when he feels Logan's fingers sliding down to wrap around his cock.

"Alec, Christ," Logan pants, and suddenly he's moving down Alec's body and sucking Alec's cock into his mouth, wet and tight like a hooker. Alec keens and pulls his legs up to his chest, feeling Logan's harsh breaths over his balls and ass, trying to arch up, get deeper, feel it harder. Logan pulls off him without warning and flips him over, and all Alec can think is _finally_ and _yes_ and _now_. But Logan's not done; Logan spreads him out and pulls his hips up and dives back in, only now he's tonguing against Alec's ass and right inside, stroking and circling and giving him small, stabbing thrusts that stretch Alec's need to breaking point. He can feel the breath rattling in his lungs, and he'd beg for Logan to end this, only he can't gather himself enough to speak. All he can do is push into it, reach back and spread himself wider, and bite his hand to muffle his moans.

After a frenzied eternity has passed, Logan eases back and slips a finger inside him, testing. Alec doesn't even twitch; he's so wide open he barely feels it, can only hum with a voice shredded to tatters and flex his ass, asking wordlessly for more. His head hangs between his shoulders, his weight on his elbows, and he's at the end of his tether.

Loan makes a soft noise in his throat and crowds up close behind him, hands on Alec's hips, lining them up. Alec lets Logan manhandle him; he's too far gone to protest anything now, his mind a blank slate, craving completion. Then Logan slides into him in one long unbroken stroke, piercing him, and Alec is suddenly awake and aware, existing in a state of unbearable razor-sharp bliss. Logan thrusts in and out slowly, like there's nothing more important than doing this right, and every stroke washes over Alec like rain. He's comprised of a million different itches, and Logan's scratching all of them, soothing and riling him up at the same time, rubbing him inside in all the right ways. He's making sounds he'd never admit to, his hands making white-knuckled fists in the bedclothes. Logan's hand snakes around to slide over his cock, smearing sweat and spit and pre-come, jacking him in a hard, measured rhythm.

Alec rears up at the touch, collapsing flat on the bed as his legs give way, but Logan simply shoves his thighs wider, pulls his hips close and slides back in, looming over him, fucking and stroking like he could do this all night, and all day, and all night again. Which is about how long it'll be until Alec's over this, until he's back to normal. Until he can look at Logan and just see Max's boyfriend, and not the guy who gets him so hot he can't breathe, not this guy who fucks him so perfectly, long and hard and without mercy, ignoring Alec's moans and choked-off screams, hips moving smooth and strong like he's a machine, until Alec simply can't take it anymore and he comes in helpless spurts, his vision a kaleidoscope of colours, his whole body jerking with the strength of it.

Logan's hand tightens on his cock, milking him, drawing out every last shudder until Alec's clawing weakly at him to get away. Logan pulls back then, his hands going to Alec's hips, lifting him up by main strength and picking up that smooth rhythm that Alec knows he's going to feel in his dreams. Logan's been silent through all this, almost eerily composed, but now his breathing is choppy and his hands are slipping, clutching, quiet disjointed words pour out of his mouth, things Alec can't quite believe he's hearing.

"God ... so tight," Logan pants, his hands moving over Alec's back, down to his thighs, over his hips to palm his belly for a moment. "Gorgeous, Alec, so fucking pretty, you fuck ... so fucking good, I can't ..."

He gasps then, almost choking, driving into Alec so hard he shifts them up the bed a few inches. Then he's trembling and shuddering against Alec's back, and wet warmth is filling Alec and dripping out of him, and he feels exhausted and sated and _complete_ for the first time in a year.

Logan collapses beside him, his legs tangled across Alec's and their fingers linked together. Alec doesn't know if Logan even notices, but he's too tired to make a point about it, and thirty seconds later he's slipping into sleep.

* * *

  


The want is still there when he wakes up.

Alec doesn't know what that means. It's been a few hours by his guess, though it's not dawn yet so ... maybe this isn't over. Logan's still out cold beside him. Their fingers are still entwined.

He's never spoken to Max about it, aside from the bare minimum and some details he coaxed out of Original Cindy. He doesn't know if he's going to have to go through that again before this whole thing wears off, or if Logan will wake up and the mood will break, or what. He doesn't know which to hope for. He does know that he's never going to be able to go through this with anybody else. The lack of control isn't just disturbing; it's terrifying, and at the same time exhilarating, and Alec doesn't want anybody that far inside him ever again. Logan got in; but Logan gave him everything back and more, so it evens out.

Alec wants to stay awake and see what happens when Logan wakes up. But his body's crying out for rest, and he's too well trained to argue. He holds Logan's hand a little tighter, traps Logan's knee between his thighs, and subsides.

The second time he wakes, Logan is gone. But there's a piece of paper on the pillow beside him, a cell phone number written in Logan's hasty scrawl, and that's good enough.

END


End file.
